


Hanging With Friends

by PsychicPineapple



Series: Old LJ fics! [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, sam/dean/cas friendship, sometime around season 4 or 5 i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:03:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4836389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychicPineapple/pseuds/PsychicPineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thought teaching Cas to play 'hanging with friends' would be fun - or at least funny. He was wrong. </p><p>_____________________________________________</p><p> </p><p>  <i>‘You need to play a word.’</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Dean’s eyebrow shot up. ‘Excuse me?’</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Castiel leant forward with a sigh. ‘I challenged you with a word in Hanging With Friends thirty seven minutes ago and you’ve yet to respond.’</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Hanging With Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Does anyone even remember 'Hanging With Friends?' It was a very popular app, okay? I'm moving this over from my ancient livejournal account, it was originally published in March 2012 (!!!) so it might be a bit rough. Unbeta'd bit of fluffy pre-slash/friend fic. Comments and kudos are appreciated. Enjoy!

‘Really, Dean? Smart phones?’ Sam held up the cell phone, slim and shiny new. He was sitting at the foot of a generic single bed in a generic Motel in a generic small town. Dean rolled his eyes at him from where he sat in the kitchenette across the room.  
  
‘Ah, come on Sammy,’ Dean smiled, ‘they were a steal, and they’re fun! They’ve got games and a camera, and,’ Here he paused, holding up a finger, ‘the  _internet_.’ He seemed to think Sam should find this exciting. ‘Research on the go!’  
  
Sam made a face. ‘You mean porn on the go, right?’ Dean just smirked, unabashed. ‘Anyway, I have a laptop. Come on, isn’t a little wasteful? We’re just gonna have to burn them in a month anyway.’

‘Exactly, Sam, just one month. Come on,’ Dean cajoled, in the face of Sam’s enduring resistance. ‘You can even put your music on it; it’s like an iPod but less douchey.’ He flicked his phone on with his thumb, lighting up a screen of small square icons. ‘Look,’ a wide grin split his face, ‘we can play Texas Hold ‘em on stakeouts.’

Sam sighed, resigned. ‘Fine, ok! But I get to choose the next phones!’

‘Sure thing.’ Dean waved a hand dismissively as he turned away and dialled.

‘Who are you calling?’ Sam asked, but Dean just held up a hand in a silencing gesture.

‘Cas, hey. We’re in room 201 at the Western Star, Arlington.’ He turned to beam at Sam. ‘We got you a present.’

 

* * *

 

‘I don’t understand,’ Castiel said slowly, peering at the screen on his phone. Sam was sitting at the table in yet another motel, researching the local folklore on his laptop. Dean and Cas were sitting side by side on one of the beds, phones in hand. Cas looked to Dean, brow furrowed. ‘What is its purpose?’

Dean sighed, grabbing Cas’ phone from his hand and keying in the required information. ‘Fun, Cas, its purpose is fun.’ At the angel’s unwavering expression, Dean elaborated. ‘It’s a game, ok? I’m signed up and now,’ he paused, handing Cas his phone back, ‘you are too. Look, it works like this,’ Dean leant over to point at the screen. ‘I make a word with these letters, and you use _these_  letters to figure out what it is. Then, you make a word for me to guess.  If we guess wrong, our little dude here loses a balloon, and when all your balloons are gone, you lose.’

Sam looked up from his laptop, confused amusement on his features. ‘Dude, are you teaching him to play ‘Hanging With Friends’?’

‘Well you take forever to play a word!’ said Dean, indignant. ‘Besides, I need more of a challenge.’ He added in a teasing tone.

 Sam simply rolled his eyes and refocused on his laptop. ‘Whatever.’

 

* * *

 

‘Dean.’

The voice roused Dean from his well-deserved sleep; decapitating a banshee and then wrestling its still-screaming head in to a box can really take it out a guy. He blinked his eyes open to see Cas bathed in the red glow from the bedside alarm clock. ‘Cas?’ Dean squinted, ‘What the hell, man, what time is it?’

‘Four A.M,’ Cas answered calmly. ‘The game won’t take my word.’

Dean’s sleep addled mind struggled to make sense of the situation. ‘Four  _A.M_? And, what?’

‘The game,’ Cas repeated, with the air of someone exercising great patience, ‘I have to play a word for Sam but the game won’t let me.’

Finally catching up to the conversation, Dean sat up, throwing a look over his shoulder to where Sam slept soundly. ‘Are you serious, Cas?’ Dean hissed, rubbing his tired eyes. ‘Is this really _that_ urgent?’

Cas at least managed to look a little apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, Dean, but there is little else to occupy my time at the moment.’

Dean sighed; he never knew exactly what Cas did when he wasn’t with them and he wasn’t needed in heaven, but if he was this psyched about a freaking game of Hanging With Friends it couldn’t be all that exciting. Dean grabbed the phone. ‘Why didn’t you just wake Sam?’

Cas looked at Dean as though he were an idiot. ‘Because then he would know the word I intended to play.’ He said slowly.

‘Right,’ Dean sighed, blinking in to the bright light of the phone. His eyes focused on the word. ‘Cas, what…is that even English?'

‘No,’ Cas answered. ‘It’s Enochian.’

‘Cas,’ Dean said wearily, ‘the words have to be in English. Okay?’

‘Oh, I see.’ Cas answered, his expression clearing. ‘Thank you, Dean.’

And then he was gone. Grumbling, Dean burrowed back under his blankets to reclaim his lost sleep. 

 

* * *

 

It was several days later when the telltale flutter of wings announced Cas’ arrival in their next motel.

‘Hey, Cas,’ Dean greeted amiably from his position on hid bed. ‘What’s up?’

‘Hello.’ Cas nodded a greeting. ‘I need to speak with Sam.’

Sam’s brow furrowed with concern and Dean stood from where he had been watching TV. ‘Why?’ he asked, immediately on alert. ‘Something going down?’

‘No,’ Castiel answered quickly, his gaze skittering away from Dean’s. ‘Nothing like that, I just…Sam?’

Sam’s looked to Dean, confused, as he stood. ‘Uh, sure, Cas, let’s talk outside.’ Grabbing a room key from the bedside table he followed Cas out the door as Dean watched on, puzzled.

It had only been a minute or two, but Dean was considering going looking for his brother when Sam strode back in to the room and sat down in front of his laptop without a word.

‘Where’s Cas?’ Dean asked, annoyed.

‘Oh,’ Sam looked up, ‘he left.’

‘He left?’ Dean echoed, feeling childishly irritated at not getting a goodbye. ‘Well, you wanna tell me what that was about?’

Sam looked up, brushing his hair from his eyes. ‘It’s was nothing. Really,’ he insisted, at Dean’s disbelieving look. ‘He was just checking in.’

Still suspicious, Dean slowly dragged his eyes back to the television. He jumped a little as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out he glanced at the notification:  _Castiel’s solve attempt of ABRACHIA is ready to view._  Dean glared at his brother. ‘Really, Sam? You’re helping him cheat now?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Sam said innocently, staring resolutely at his laptop while trying to smother a grin.  
  


* * *

   
Dean sat in the Impala, his stomach grumbling loudly. He peered through the windshield at the Diner for what seemed like the hundredth time, willing Sam to walk out with his food. They’d been driving all day and Dean was  _starving_ , but not just regular starving: he was dying to get his hands on one of Rosie’s triple stack barbeque bacon and cheese burgers. The craving had kicked in from the moment he’d realised the road to their next case would bring them past Rosie’s Diner. He’d purposely skipped every fast food joint on the way and made a beeline for the Diner as soon as they passed city limits. They hadn’t even found a motel yet.

He grinned broadly as Sam walked out the door, striding across the asphalt to where the Impala was parked. Dean stuck his hand out the open window, making a grabbing gesture. ‘What, did you kill the pig yourself?’ He called to his brother. ‘Gimme!’ Sam laughed and tossed Dean’s order through the window before walking around to the passenger door and sliding in. Dean unwrapped his burger carefully, arranging the wrapping so the hot grease and secret sauce dripping from the bun wouldn’t land in his lap. He took a moment to savour the scent, opened his mouth and –

‘Dean.’

Both Sam and Dean jumped in their seats; Sam’s head making an audible crack as it hit the roof.

‘God dammit, Cas!’ Dean yelled over his shoulder, looking to where Castiel sat serenely on the back seat. ‘What have we told you about calling ahead?’ He pointed a finger at Sam who was wincing and rubbing his head. ‘If his melon put a dent in my baby, you’re hammering it out yourself!’

Cas only stared back at him, patiently waiting for him to finish. Dean deflated, sitting his burger back in the wrapping on his lap and focusing his attention on Cas. ‘Alright, what?’

‘You need to play a word.’

Dean’s eyebrow shot up. ‘Excuse me?’

Castiel leant forward with a sigh. ‘I challenged you with a word in Hanging With Friends thirty seven minutes ago and you’ve yet to respond.’

Dean turned his head toward Sam, their eyes meeting in identical incredulous expressions. ‘Ok, Cas, you know what, you need to spend a little less time on that game.’ Dean said, turning back to the angel.

‘So you’ll play a word?’

‘Cas!’ Dean threw his hands up in frustration. ‘I’m starving and I’ve been looking forward to this burger for  _days_  so,  _no_ , I will not play a word right now!’

Cas sat in silence for a moment, and when he looked up his face was contrite. ‘I’m sorry, Dean, I’ve been selfish.’

Dean nodded, satisfied his point had been made. ‘Look, when I finish this then I’ll send you a - ’ he was cut off as Cas abruptly leant forward and firmly pressed two fingers to his forehead. Suddenly Dean was no longer hungry; in fact he was completely full. He looked down at his burger and felt his body protest at the sight. The greasy, meaty scent that had moments ago made his mouth water now  made his stomach turn unpleasantly.

‘There,’ Cas said, sounding accomplished, ‘you should no longer feel hunger. Now you can play a word.’

Dean just stared morosely at his burger while Sam howled with laughter.  
  


* * *

 

Dean picked up his knife and fork, preparing to dig in to his breakfast of bacon and eggs, when his phone vibrated on the table by his plate. ‘Son of a bitch,’ he growled, dropping his cutlery with a clatter.

‘Dude, just leave it.’ Sam advised from across the table, a mug of coffee cupped in his hands. ‘Finish your breakfast first, at least.’

‘Oh and what, have him I-dream-of-genie in to a crowded café to deprive me of another meal?’ Dean shook his head with disbelief as his thumbs tapped at the screen. ‘I’m telling you, man, he has a problem. We need to get him in to “word-games anonymous” or something.’ He dropped his phone back to the table, grabbed his fork and began shovelling eggs in to his mouth.

Sam couldn’t help but grin. ‘Dean,  _chew_.’

‘No time,’ Dean mumbled around a mouthful of bacon, ‘my letters weren’t great, he’ll figure it out in no time.’ He lifted his coffee cup to his mouth, cheeks bulging.

‘Ok, this is ridiculous.’ Sam said, firmly. He lifted his eyes skyward. ‘Cas, come meet us at the Roadside Diner in Coolidge, Texas. Use the  _door_.’ He added as an afterthought.

Moments later the bell above the diner door tinkled, and Cas shuffled in, his eyes on his phone, thumbs tapping. His eyes flicked up long enough to locate Sam and Dean, and he walked towards them. Dean moved across to allow Cas to slide in to the booth.

‘Hey, Cas, how’re you-’

Cas lifted a finger to silence Dean. ‘One moment, please.’ He tapped a few more times, and then sat his phone on the table, looking between the brothers. Next to his plate, Dean’s phone vibrated, and Dean flinched. Cas simply glanced between them. ‘Do you need my assistance?’

‘Uh, no, Cas,’ Sam said gently, ‘we actually need your cell.’

Cas’ hand made an aborted movement, as if to snatch his phone from the tabletop. ‘My cell phone? Why?’

‘We’ve had them for too long as it is, time to burn them and get new ones.’

‘Oh,’ Castiel breathed, relieved. ‘Very well.’ He turned to Dean, who was trying to get as much bacon on to his fork as possible before shoving it in his mouth. ‘We’ll have to wait until we get our new cell phones to finish the game.’ Dean paused, mid-chew, and sent Sam a look.

‘Actually, Cas,’ Sam began carefully, ‘our new phones are going to be a lot simpler. Dean got a good deal on these ones, but it won’t happen again.’ Cas narrowed his eyes, uncomprehending. ‘We won’t have word games anymore.’ Sam elaborated.

Cas dropped his gaze, staring at the tabletop, Dean chewed noisily, and Sam felt like the bad guy. ‘I understand.’ Cas said finally. ‘It was…I enjoyed playing with you both; Heaven frowns upon such diversions and Earth can be,’ he paused, searching, ‘monotonous when I’m on my own. But your safety and anonymity come first.’ He reached out, sliding the cell across the counter to Sam. ‘Pray, if you need me.’ And then he was walking away, the bell above the door tinkling.

‘Well,’ Sam said after a moment, ‘I feel like crap.’

Dean pushed his plate away, his appetite receding. ‘Well, he’s a grown-ass Angel, he can deal.’ He swilled his cooling coffee around his mouth, grimacing at the bitter taste. ‘What?’ He asked, seeing Sam’s incredulous look.

Sam shrugged. ‘Nothing. I mean, the guy rebels against heaven, spends most of his free time down here waiting to drag our asses out of the fire but, you know, no big deal.’

‘What do you want me to do, Sam?’ Dean spread his hands wide. ‘You were right about the phones; we can’t use ‘em forever and new ones aren’t cheap.’ He tried to banish the dejected look on the Angel’s face before he’d left. ‘It’s a  _game_ , Sam. He’ll be fine.’

 

* * *

 

 

They didn’t see Castiel for four weeks.

They didn’t pray for him because, well, they didn’t need to. All their cases were cut and dry; vampire nest, haunting, low level exorcism. But Dean was starting to get antsy, and it was driving Sam nuts. After clenching his teeth through half an hour Dean’s incessant channel flicking and his absent-minded leg shaking that made the whole bed creak, Sam snapped.

‘Would you just call him?’ The shout made Dean jump, fumbling the TV remote and sending it clattering to the floor.

‘What the hell, Sam?’ Dean yelled back, leaning down to retrieve the remote. ‘Call who?’

‘You  _know_ who.’ Sam bit out, closing the lid of his laptop.

‘If he wanted to be here, he’d be here.’ Dean mumbled, walking over and pulling open the fridge to grab a beer. ‘He knows he can come and hang out, it doesn’t have to be life-and-death stuff.’

‘Does he?’ Sam retorted. ‘Dean, I don’t think Cas really  _gets_  the concept of “hanging out”. Most of the time when we’re together we’re either researching killing something, waiting to kill something, or  _killing something_.’

‘Hey, that’s not true!’ Dean protested, pointing his bottle at Sam. ‘I took him to a brothel that one time.’

‘Yeah, Dean, I’m sure that taught him a wealth about human interaction.’ Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Look, I’m just saying I think part of the reason he was so gung-ho with Hanging With Fri-’

‘Ah!’ Dean cut him off, holding up a hand. ‘We don’t mention that.’

Sam glared. ‘The reason he was so in to  _that game_  was because it gave him a purpose, a reason to interact with us outside of the “life-and-death stuff”.’ He framed the phrase with air quotes.

‘Sam,’ Dean groaned. ‘Why’s it gotta be me that calls him, huh?’

‘Because  _I’m_ not the one getting all twitchy over it.  _And_ ,’ he pushed on, when Dean tried to interrupt. ‘I’m not the one Cas bugged non-stop while he had that phone.’ That seemed to give Dean pause, and when he lay back on the bed he managed to settle on a channel, and keep his body still.

 

* * *

 

The next day Dean burst into to motel room after having left abruptly fifteen minutes earlier to “get some stuff”. Sam had just frowned at the closed door for a moment and turned back to his laptop. Now, there was a plastic bag swinging from Dean’s wrist, which he proceeded to reach in to and pull out a blank notepad and a black sharpie.

‘Dean,’ Sam said, confused. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Cas!’ Dean called, ignoring Sam. ‘Oh, Castiel, he who is most addicted to word games, come on down!’ Then Dean turned and grabbed Sam’s laptop off the table, shoving it at him. ‘Move this, we need the table.’ He dropped the notepad and sharpie in front of a confused and slightly peeved Sam. Then he opened the fridge and pulled out three beers, setting them on the table and sitting down on one of the flimsy motel chairs. Then he waited.

There was a familiar fluttering sound and the top few pages of the notepad fluttered in the new breeze, and Castiel was beside them.

‘Sam, Dean. How can I help?’ Cas looked at them with his familiar blue eyes, slightly narrowed, head on the tiniest of tilts.

‘Nice to see you too, Cas.’ Dean deadpanned. ‘And you can help us by sitting down.’ He kicked out a chair, uncapping a beer and putting in front of the empty space. ‘Come on, sit, have a beer.’

Sam just smiled up a Cas and gave a little wave, trying not to look as lost as he felt.

Castiel slowly obeyed, reaching out for the condensation-covered bottle, sipping unhurriedly as he slid on to the chair. ‘Is there something we need to discuss?’ He asked, lowering the bottle.

‘Nah,’ Dean answered casually, flicking his bottle cap towards the kitchen sink. ‘Just thought we could, you know, hang out.’

‘Hang out.’ Cas echoed slowly, trying out the phrase, and Dean felt like an asshole. Sam had been right, Cas had no concept of just “hanging out with the guys”, and Dean had just been waiting around for him to get a clue. Well, not anymore.

‘Yeah, Cas, hang out.’ He leaned forward, clinking the neck of his bottle against Cas’ in a gentle toast. ‘It’s what friends do when they haven’t seen each other in a while and they want to catch up.’

Castiel’s lips twitched in to a small smile, and he dropped his eyes. ‘All right,’ he said after a moment, hesitantly raising his eyes to Dean’s. ‘I’d like that.’

‘Great,’ Dean smiled, reaching over to flip open the notepad. ‘Ever played hangman, Cas? You’ll love it.’

 

  

 END

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me [here on tumblr](http://www.scottmotherfuckinmccall.tumblr.com)!


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